


An Introduction of Sorts

by MsRitaB



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 11:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsRitaB/pseuds/MsRitaB
Summary: Little America meets Juan Ponce de Leon in 1513 in the region now called Florida.





	An Introduction of Sorts

Title: An Introduction of Sorts  
Main Character: America  
Secondary Character: Juan Ponce de Leon  
Mentioned Character: Native America  
Implied Character:Spain  
Summary: Little America meets Juan Ponce de Leon in 1513 in the region now called Florida.

Early morning dew on wet grass was the best feeling in the world. It made your bare feet feel cool and slippery being able to squish together the damp dirt under the grass between your feet. It also made the grass smell and look good. It was like seeing millions of crystals against the rising sun.

This would be the last few times he could enjoy this as rising temperatures accompany the oncoming of summer. In the middle of the day, April would bring hot humid weather which really wasn't that fun to play in unless you were in shade or water. Little America got on his knees and felt the grass with his hand. The water would splay around his hand and evaporate quickly as the sun started taking its spot in the sky, the beautiful dawn turning into broad daylight slowly.

America crawled a little bit more on the grass. He would find all sorts of things when he crawled around. Like insects, mud spots, tiny creatures, and his favorite-worms. Worms were a sight to behold. They never died if you played with them to hard and accidently tore them apart (like America tended to) since they would just become two worms. They felt really squishy and cool and never bit you like some spiders and ants. Worms were America's favorite pastime and he found a little patch of them.

As time went on and America spent his day laughing and giggling with his worm friends, the ocean started losing its “quiet” sensation. The Atlantic was always one to be wild and have crashing waves but you could always tell when the waves started sounding different. Instead of following through, the wave would be interrupted with a smack against hardwood. A ship was breaking its way through the Atlantic heading to shore unbeknownst to America.

He didn't quite realize that anyone was coming until the ship hit shore, crashing against the hardened sand. Looking up, America saw a huge sleek wooden ship. It had majestic sterling white sails that covered the top of the ship and a huge intimidating flag that had four squares of castles and lions...things that America never really noticed or saw before.

The men (and there sure was a lot) ranged from light skin like his own to a little more olive skin color. They were tall and trimmed looking men wearing breeches, stockings, long overcoats over a simple shirt, and some of them even wore hats. Many of the ship men looked rather plain but some of them especially one figure stood out with more elaborate clothing that shined against the sun. Who were these guys?

America, being little enough to hide amongst the grass parts that were growing tall, hid himself. He crouched down into a little ball resembling a cat and peeked through the grass fields watching as the men started getting off of the boat and onto shore. America could hear them speaking in some language he couldn't understand and never heard of. It wasn't nation speak that he was inherently born to know but it wasn't the one of the native tribe languages either. These new voices were exotic sounding different from each man: hopeful, excited, curious, commanding, demanding.

There was one voice who stuck out the most. The man with the most elaborate clothing yelled over the group in a commanding leadership type way. He seemed bold and very forthright about his ambitions. It reminded of America of the leaders from the various natives. This man must lead them.

The men after hearing the instruction of whatever the lead man was saying starting going out into the fields away from the shore and started exploring. Each went different directions in a group, their voices exclaiming things in awe about this new world they were seeing for the first time.

America crouched himself together a little more not necessarily knowing what to do. He had overheard of new people coming to his lands from Native North America that was the other personification of the native peoples here and where his other brother whom he never saw lived in the north. Native was talking to other tribe's leaders of news from the South America and Caribbean tribes of people coming from the ocean on boats and cultivating their land. Some of the stories had sounded horrific with some tribes being conquered or used as slaves.

It had sounded scary to America and he didn't quite understand a lot of it. One thing is for sure, there was bigger nations out there somewhere older than him and they were not probably as nice as Native was to him. Could these guys be from one of those bigger nations?

Heavy boots clamped down on the now dry grass near his hiding spot catching America off guard. The man looked around and said something strange when he heard a little squeak that America couldn't stop in time. America closed his eyes and tightened his mouth shut trying not to be caught by this weird beast. The boots came closer and closer until America felt one on top of his head. It pushed down a little bit causing America to move quickly on instinct and consequently do a somersault that landed him on his bum.

Blue eyes and brown eyes looked at each other for a long while, just staring. America could see that this man was definitely one of importance because of his lavish cloth that draped him. It resembled the high level leaders of the Natives except without feathers or paint or bow. This man had silk, well-kept hair, and a sword. The man's eyes burned a hole through his emotions flitting through them a mile a minute. America shivered. Something inside him, an inner voice, was telling him that this man was not a nation. The way his eyes were staring showed various states but especially one of surprise of finding people on this land. It gave away a flair only a human could possess. A nice little curious touch to the human persona.

The man grunted and crouched down to America reaching a hand out to to keep him steady. America not really wanting to be touched by someone he didn't know used both his hand to grab the intruding appendage and push it to the ground. The man was startled a little a bit and uttered a word that sounded like a curse.

“You are a strong baby,” he murmured under his breath. A toddler shouldn't have been able to do something like that. Not a normal human toddler. He looked back at America curiously and wondered if this baby was special. Like the man that was always beside the royals. A special person...a personification. America not really understanding the man's tongue kept his hands on top of the others.

“What are you doing here?” America asked in broken nation speak. He was still young and not having much contact with other nations, his speech was not exactly up to par yet. Even though he had deduced that this man was human he figured that this was going to be the best choice for communication. He most likely did not know any native tongue and nation speak had words from all sorts of languages. He could probably understand at least some of them.

The man raised a chiseled eyebrow at the weird gibberish. He didn't comprehend many of the words used there.

Sighing, the man said, “Me llamo Juan Ponce de Leon. I am here on exploration from Spain. You being here shows that there is people here.” He smirked in an amusing way. “You are not a normal human are you little one?”

America's eyebrows went down in confusion. What was this...Juan person saying? He caught one thing from that gargin, his name.

America didn't know what else he should do and uttered the most intelligible thing that came to mind. “Huh?”

Juan's mouth dropped the smirk and turned into a frown which was followed by a silence. Everything was dead around them except for the distant ocean waves beating against each other in a competition.

Then like a geyser sprouting its water from its whole, Juan fell into a fit of laughter. It was jovial and heavy. It caught America so off guard that his grip on Juan's hands lessened which enabled Juan to break free. His freed hands immediately covered his belly as his laughter continued almost growing silent. America's face grew a wondrous shade of red across his cheeks. He didn't exactly know what he did to cause this man to laugh so heavily. He simply just couldn't understand him....he never really seen anyone from the Old World.

Juan was finally able to regain control of himself and cleared his throat. He got back up on his two feet and straightened out his lavish clothes. His stately eyes looked down upon America and his mouth formed into a patronizing smirk.

“You don't understand me...,”he stated. Then his eyes looked up onto the landscape. Scouting out the surface, America's land was new, clean, fresh with new resources that have never been abundantly used or even discovered. It was like looking at heaven's virginal angels-pristine and immaculate.

All his to exploit.

Juan's eyes landed back on America with a look of greed. His smirk turning from patronizing to hungry.

“You have never seen one of us huh? A European from the Old World. The way your land looks, little one, means your people live like savages. An uncivilized group.” Juan sneered, eyes leering. He bent down to pick America up and cradle him like the little child he was. America was too stunned to do anything other than let him be cuddled but the cuddle wasn't warm. It wasn't like Native's cuddles. Native's cuddles were warm and comforting. He knew he was safe from the world with Native's strong arms around him. This guy's cuddle was cold. Like a barren winter wasteland. There was no warmth in Juan's cuddle and at no time did he feel protected. America knew he had to do something.

The little child started writhing and wriggling around uttering little whiny noises. A kitten trying to get out of the bigger cat's grasp. Juan looked down and gave a patronizing smile.

“Oh, little one. You can't escape from me. You will help us bring new riches to Spain!” Juan started walking back to the ships where he would be able to gather his men. Catching young America was the first step (already completed) and the child could help them navigate the unknown lands and deal with the indigenous savages. This child would not grow up like them.

When they got to the ship, the soldiers automatically surrounded Juan ready to serve. One of the men noticed that Juan was carrying a bundle that was struggling to get out of his grip.

“What do you have there, Commander Ponce? A baby?” asked one of his men.

“There are people here? Asked another.

 

Juan looked at the man and scoured over the rest of soldiers and stated, “this is no ordinary baby. When I saw him, he showed too much intelligence and strength to be a regular human baby. This young one represents this new colony we have found here.”

Silence rung around the group. It was always interesting to the humans to hear about those special people. Most humans saw these “special beings” throughout their lives but always convinced themselves that it just had to be another person. Other humans knew better and believed in the nations especially if their late family has seen them in the past. Then there were high ranking humans that dealt with the nations on a regular basis. Subsequently, there were humans that did not necessarily believe Juan and those that did. No one dared to dissent or consent, though, to the commander.

“He will come back with us. It would be lovely to show the royal family that a newborn colony personification has been created. Vamanos!” 

Juan led the way and headed towards the ship’s dock. His men followed after him. 

Little America was scared. He started screaming and squirming in the conquistador's grasp. He did not want to go to wherever this man was taking him. 

A squirmish had ensued between Juan and America. America was an abnormally strong country and, even was he little, he was able to play with the bison and swing them around just using his bare hands. America decided that he needed that strength now and started kicking and clawing and yelling out. Surprised by the burst of pure strength, Juan let go of the baby nation and America fell to the ground, shaken but unharmed. Juan, realizing that he needed to use force, grabbed his sword and quickly swung it at the child’s arm making a warning cut that went from America’s upper arm arm to lower arm. 

America cried out from the pain not expecting the sword to come out. The blood was a small trickle (the cut was not that deep) and the blood was fresh and hot. Tears started rolling down America’s eyes and he looked up at his torturer with teary eyed fury. He was angry that this big guy that came from lands elsewhere had the gall to try to force him to go back with him. He wouldn’t allow himself to just be used as a toy to exploit. 

Very swiftly, America grabbed onto the edge of the sword, new tears forming from the cuts it gave his hand, and yanked hard. The force of the yank was so much that Juan Ponce fell face forward onto the ground with a very grueling thud. He groaned and when he was finally able to lift his face, it was covered with dirt and grass. His head was pounding with pain from the fall. 

America now in control of the sword, grabbed hold of the hilt and pointed it towards Juan. 

“Leave now! I am not afraid to use this,” America shouted. His young voice was strong but not quite steady. It had a slight quiver to it that might have loosened the punch of America’s words.  
Juan looked at his circumstances. He had lost against a baby! A little baby, not more than two years old, was now holding him at sword point. His pride was severely hurt. His men had just witnessed him lose against a child- not even a full grown nation! Oh, how he wanted revenge but he would have to bide his time. Juan, for once in his life, decided not to push his luck. 

Staggering to his feet, Juan put his hands up and looked at the child. 

“I will leave you now,” he stated. America just kept his gaze and held the sword at Juan’s face.

Slowly, walking backwards not daring to turn his back on the child, the great Juan Ponce de Leon was forced to retreat. He left behind his sword and finally turned his back when he got close to his men. 

“Sir, are you okay?

“Si, head back to the ship and get it ready for sail. We have a lot to tell our superiors,” Juan ordered. 

Looking back at America, who now had put the sword down, Juan vowed to come back and colonize this little nation. He would get his revenge and this little nation (no matter the strength) and the savages that live with him will not be able to withstand the army that he would yield. 

He would, personally, make sure that this New World would be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: WOW! It has been a long time since I posted on fanfiction! (This work is also posted on fanfiction.net). I mean I think that the last story I posted was in 2013! I was still in high school, haha. I think a junior at that point...or a sophomore...hmm, I graduated in 2015. So, do the math. Anywho, I have been lurking around fanfiction.net, looking at some of my old favorite stories. I need to see if anyone made new content that is good out there. It doesn’t have to be for Hetalia (so far I have only written for Hetalia) it could be some of the other fandoms too. I had a good laugh looking back at my old stories that I wrote on fictionpress and fanfiction. Oh man, they were pretty good for a teenager but still...you can see the “teenagerish” aspects in the writing. Hopefully, I am more refined now that I am the big 22 years old. 
> 
> Either way, this story has been in the works for a long time. I started it...then forgot about it...then worked on it...lost interest...finally, I got around to finishing it. A whole whopping 6 pages or 2,842 words.
> 
> This is a story inspired by the historical event when Juan Ponce de Leon from Spain came to Florida in search of the fountain of youth on an island. He thought that Florida, where he actually landed, was the place and came back again in 1521 where he got fatally wounded from an Native Indian attack. My personality of Juan Ponce de Leon is made up by me. In no way should that be taken as fact of how he was in real life. Again, this story was inspired by this historical event but not necessarily based on the event. 
> 
> The flag I got from the Florida Department of State history section. They state that according to research, Spain’s most notable national flag was the one with four squares, two of them carrying lions and the other two carrying castles. 
> 
> I know it seems like a headcanon that nations use a sort of language that only they know to communicate with each other but it is actually on the hetalia kitawiki site that states this implication. It can be suggested that this “nation speak” is canon. It is sort of implied throughout the series (at least the ones not in modern day). 
> 
> It is canon that America, even when he was young, was really strong. 
> 
> Thanks for enjoying my story! There shall be more in the works. So, if you want to follow my stories or myself as a writer then go ahead and click those buttons. I am also on various other media platforms that are in my biography description.


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